~ Voyage Of The Heart ~

by

Dalia Trevino

It shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did for him to see her uncomfortable in her surroundings and in her new place.

Stifling the urge to go to her, he turned instead to face the stern of the ship and the wind that was blowing them ever closer to England.

As the strong current blew over him, ruffling the black neckerchief and straining the hold his hat had on his head, he inhaled deeply.

But instead of the salty sea air, he inhaled a deep gust of sweet fragrant air. It was the scent of the coronilla flower. He knew it and knew also that it was Lexie who was calling to him now. More than the sea had ever done.

It could be the fresh smell was escaping from the neckerchief he wore, her perfume lingered on it from when he’d held her before. But if he was honest with himself he would admit, Siren that she was, she beckoned him to her.

With a click of his heel he spun around and strode across the small area of the poop deck that was reserved for him or for the captain when Edward was below.

Taking the five narrow steps down to the quarterdeck he noted it was almost empty, most of the men having gone below to their duties, it registered but not as much as sight of Lexie.

Saying not a word to her, he snatched her hand and escorted her into his day cabin. All he wanted at the moment was lose himself in the softness of her kiss and the sweetness of body.

But he couldn’t, not yet. Duty as ever came first.

“You will confine yourself to this cabin until we no longer have land in our sight.”

“I don’t understand,” she said slowly. “What exactly will my absence from the deck above gain?”

“That if one does not obey their leader they will suffer the consequences set out in the articles of war.”

“You are punishing me for trying to help you!”

Disregarding the beautiful green eyes that glared hotly at him and the tempting red curls that fell over her cheeks, Edward indicated the three rooms with a wide sweep of his hand.

“You will venture no farther than your sleeping cabin, this day cabin, and the dining cabin.”

“You cannot do this.”

“I can, and you would do well to remember that it is well within my rights to do so. It could be worse and if you are not thankful for my leniency then perhaps I can shorten the confinement to only the sleeping and dining cabin.”

Her chest rose and fell quickly, her breath labored. With jerking fingers she removed the pins from her hat and pulled off the bonnet. Carefully she placed it on the edge of the long dining table.

Knowing she was endeavoring to keep her temper in control, Edward decided it would be tactical for him to leave her by herself for a bit.

Going around her and heading to the door he was forestalled by her words and tone.

“You are not going to leave me here alone?”

“I had not thought you were desirous of my company,” he said as he turned to face her.

“I…”

When she faltered he strode back to her side and lifted her chin with the knuckle of his curved finger. Her face was flushed a delicate pink complementing the fiery redness of her hair, the splattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the dark lashes that formed a half moon crescent on her cheeks over her downhearted gaze.

Her anger which he’d believed would have driven her from him instead was the fuse that allowed him to stay. He leaned over her, his lips finding hers, his hardness crushing her softness.

The moan that reached his ears that he’d thought he’d been unable to stifle caused a grin to cover his face. It was Lexie’s own groan of pleasure that increased his ardor.

Want and need for the woman in his arms proved too much for him to overcome. With a low growl in response to his purely primitive cravings he dropped his hand from her chin and caressed her delicate lithe form from her shoulders to her thighs.

Never ceasing to taste her skin, his lips explored the curves and planes of her cheekbones, forehead, chin, and the graceful curve of her throat.

“Edward,” she breathed her voice rough over his head as he traced the pulse beat from her neck to her shoulder. Unable to take in more of her with the covering of her shawl and gown, he tugged the soft cashmere and dimly heard it swirl to pool on the wooden floor beams below their feet.

Her hands, free now from the tight grip on her shawl rose to his face. She cupped his cheeks between her hands and lifted his face to hers.

The torture of having her so close yet unable to feel all of her triumphed over every thing else. His lips found hers as her hands wove around his neck.

In one smooth motion he tore through the miniature buttons that held her gown around her. He made short work of the stays that kept him from experiencing the warm supple skin of the bewitching woman in his arms.

Leaving only her stockings held up by delicate and frothy white lace and satin garters, he lifted her lithe body, delicately fair tinted with the lightest golden hue, like a perfect peach.

In a matter of moments he’d arrived in her sleeping cabin and was standing beside the swinging cot. Placing her inside, he wrenched his own clothing from his body before climbing in beside her.